


I'll Take It All

by NotOfImport



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5241593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotOfImport/pseuds/NotOfImport
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Da0z7UX2_iw">this</a> song / A year after finding Bucky again, Steve feels the full weight of his role, and it takes the two of them sitting on a beach for Steve to finally break down and let himself be human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Take It All

Steve Rogers always thought he was a natural born leader. He thought it when all the kids on his playground were skinny, rowdy and listened to only him. His best pal Bucky’s arm linked in his, all of them playing soldiers. And Steve, of course, was the captain. As he started to grow older, those same boys began to tower over him, their shadows twice his size and their fingers wrapped easily around his wrist. The loyal, brave soldiers he fought with on the playground became bullies. But his best friend never did, even as his jaw sharpened and his eyes caught the attention of every girl they walked past. 

It didn’t matter how many times Bucky told Steve he was brave, that he always would be, Steve felt like he lost something as he got older. He thought he was supposed to be a natural born leader, but there seemed to be a disconnect between who he was and who people thought he was. 

He thought it would change after he took the serum, he thought it was possible for him to charge after justice, his best pal by his side and an army of good men behind him. But nothing changed. His best friend slipped from his fingertips down a mountain, he crashed himself into an iceberg to save his home, and he couldn’t see that the world had lost their leader. 

Seventy years later, he’s awake and thrust back into this world full of even more turmoil and sadness and everything bad he thought he was fighting to get rid of. But some sense of that childhood leadership took hold of him again, staring at the five superheroes who looked to him, even if some did so begrudgingly. 

And the explosion of feelings that came when he discovered his best friend was alive, that jolted him into his childhood playground. It sparked what he had desired his entire life, to lead, and follow justice, with his best friend by his side. 

A year after he saw Bucky for the first time, that dream finally came true. 

\--

Steve finds himself on a lonely, cold Tuesday sitting on the bay shore that separates New York and New Jersey. The wind blowing through his red jacket, shivering hands in the pockets messing around with the loose change and gum wrappers he’d stuck in there some time ago. He sat criss cross on the pale sand, staring out at the few boats travelling to and from the enemy states. Red stripes accenting the closest one, Steve could just make out a couple tourists who were already pointing at him. He pulled up his hood, drawing the strings slightly to warn off those folks coming in. 

“Why are you all mopey? I’m the one who’s lost an arm.” He looks to his left and Bucky is trudging over, feet sinking in the sand with every step he takes, a lax smile on his lips. Steve stares at Bucky until he sets himself down and crosses his legs to match Steve. He tries not to notice that their knees are just barely touching, but a warm spiral shoots itself into Steve’s chest. 

Bucky pats Steve’s arm lightly, “The team was looking for you. I thought you’d be here, you've been here so much lately.” 

“We used to come here all the time in the 30s,” Steve blows out a deep breath, the white wisp of cold just barely visible before him, “Only in the sunshine though, you were afraid of me getting sick.” 

The mood between them becomes balanced, Bucky falling to meet Steve’s thoughtful dejection. The memories of all that time ago barely exist to him, he’s only just vaguely remembered this shoreline. “I was always afraid of you getting sick, cause you always already were. I had to take care of ya. Still do.” His voice turns up at that last word, Steve notices and bites the inside of his cheek to keep from tearing up. 

“It should be the other way now though, shouldn’t it? Buck, I mean, you lost everything. You lost everything. I want to be there for you, I-” 

“You’ve been there for me since the day we first played soldiers on that dingy school playground. I was your second in command, and you-” He pauses, and Steve isn’t looking at him but he can picture the smile that suddenly appears, and the small laugh he lets out is gold to Steve’s ears. Soft, and so familiar. “You shoved down that kid who tried to replace me, Will or -or something. And I..don’t remember much but I remember what you told him. You- you said, ‘Nobody replaces Bucky, you all would be killed in battle without him.’ And there was so much strength in your voice, tiny as it was. I don’t think any amount of brainwashing could make me forget that..” 

His voice trailed off, as if remembering what it is that made him forget in the first place. 

Steve pulls a hand from his pocket, reaching over for Bucky’s to hold it. Something they were told to stop doing as kids. Something they never stopped doing as kids. It was careful now, and Steve’s hands shook in the cold, shook even against Bucky’s warm hand until he felt the fingers curl around his own. 

A single freezing tear slid down his cheek, “You know you were afraid of the ocean. You told me the only reason we came was because I loved it.” Another tear fell. “It all seems different now. It seems..” He sighed, losing the word. 

“Grey. It seems grey.” Bucky looked over at him, just now seeing that Steve was crying. “It’s going to be okay, Stevie.” 

Steve looked back at him, “I think so, Buck. I don’t know. Maybe I can’t handle this anymore.” He pulled his other hand out of his pocket, a wadded up tissue held tight in it. He wiped away the tears and shook his head. 

Bucky’s long hair blew in front of his face when he looked at Steve, blue-grey eyes blending with the scenery. It seemed an entire ocean thunderstorm was trapped in them. Something that comforted Steve, thunderstorms. Even the sky broke apart sometimes, cracking for a moment and roaring at the pain. They let him know that maybe this was okay. Maybe what he was feeling is alright. Bucky seemed to remind him of this whenever these moments appeared, and thinking on it now another warm spiral shot through Steve’s chest. 

“That’s crazy, Steve. You’re the best guy I know, the only one deserving of this title. Captain America. He’s a hero because he’s you. And if you need to step away for some time, I’m right there behind you. Until you know things are going to be okay. You’re my best friend.” Bucky held tighter to Steve’s hand, looking into his watering eyes, and waiting for Steve to fall into his arms. 

And he did; he was shaking, tears falling without hesitation. Bucky uncrossed his legs, pulling Steve inbetween them and just holding his best friend to his chest. Steve scooted closer, letting go of Bucky’s hand and instead wrapping both arms around him. Bucky slid Steve’s hood off his head, putting his metal hand on the nape of his neck and running his thumb through the short blonde hairs that faded to cold skin. He slipped his other hand inside Steve’s jacket and around his back, moving it in small circles and shushing him softly. 

“I love you, Steve. I believe in you. And I’m always going to take care of you.” He spoke quietly, wind obtruding his speech. But Steve pulled away from him, looking into his eyes. 

He didn’t know if it was the uncertainty of their timeline, or the cold wind freezing his brain, but Steve leaned forward and pressed his lips against Bucky’s. And suddenly everything was warm. Bucky pressed back, and his lips were soft. Steve felt the few cuts in his bright pink lips, but they really were soft. And all at once he was wondering why it took him so long to do this. 

The cold air nipped at the warmth between them, and won when Steve pulled away. Bucky’s thunderstorm eyes were unreadable, his lips parted slightly and cheeks flushed, but it was right. Steve knew it was right. Those warm spirals that shot into his chest were now spread evenly throughout the rest of him, and he felt the small smile on his lips. He watched as Bucky’s lips closed into a synonymous smile, and he stood up, holding his hand out for Steve. 

“Come on, let’s go home.” 

Steve reached for Bucky’s hand, linking their fingers together and pulling himself up. He stood there for a moment, capturing everything about Bucky he could. The way his hair was whipped by the wind, the thin, faded scar on his neck, the roughness of his hand. Steve stared, and Bucky looked at him expectantly. 

He smiled to himself, “I’m already there.”


End file.
